


What Good Songs are Made Of

by DeathByStorm



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Humour, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Monster of the Week Fic, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, Set in an alternate timeline where Geralt ran away with Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/pseuds/DeathByStorm
Summary: Something was wrong. He drew back and stared hard at the Jaskier. The bard reached over and gently cupped his hand against Geralt’s jaw. His palm was warm and soft, and the scent of his skin was sweet. He swallowed hard and swayed into it despite the alarms blaring in his head.“That’s it,” Jaskier cooed. He leaned forward and Geralt couldn’t stop himself from doing the same.In which Geralt goes on a hunt and has a bad time and then a slightly better time.I do not give my consent for this fic to be posted on Fanfic Pocket Archive Library (Unofficial) or any other similar apps.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 300





	What Good Songs are Made Of

**Author's Note:**

> Ah I am so excited to post this! I couldn't even wait until tomorrow as planned. Enjoy!
> 
> As always, beta'd by my partner in crime, [Eilera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera)
> 
> All remaining mistakes are my own

It had been tough to find work since the drowners a few towns back.

These days, there were less and less monsters around for a Witcher to slay and it seemed this was yet another night that Geralt had struck out. In the corner, Jaskier was doing his best to rile up the crowd. The bard caught his eye and threw him a smile before continuing into a rather boisterous rendition of ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter.'

“You’re the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia?”

Geralt looked up from his ale. The man was clearly a local, middle aged, with a desperate look on his face. He had a worn coin purse clutched in his hands.

“The name’s Marsaic. I have a job for you, Witcher.”

“What’s the job?”

“A siren,” Marsaic said. “It’s already taken four of our best men. We'll pay you three hundred orens to slay it for us.”

Geralt considered for a brief moment. Three hundred orens wasn’t much for the job in front of him, but it was probably the best that a villager could afford. He glanced over to where Jaskier was still singing. It had been an uncharacteristically dry spell for them both lately.

“What does it look like?”

“Surely, you have fought them before?”

“I’ve found it’s always best to be prepared,” Geralt said.

The man’s expression fell, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. He drew a hand across his face. “See? Here’s the thing. It looks almost exactly like my lost love Elina only much more beautiful.”

“Does it always take this appearance?”

“Yes,” he said. “I try to avoid the docks as much as I can.”

Geralt straightened in his chair and knocked back the rest of his beer.

“Deal,” he said.

Marsaic breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

He dropped the coin purse front of the Witcher.

“Where is it?”

“It’s down by the docks, there every morning practically. El-It seems to like the water.”

“Thank you,” Geralt said. He tossed some coins on the table and stood.

“So, we’ve got a job, have we?” Jaskier called as he headed over to Geralt. He’d finished his set while they’d been talking.

“I’ve got a job,” Geralt said. “You’ll stay here.”

Jaskier crossed his arms and frowned at the Witcher. “What kind of monster is it?” he said. “Can’t I come along?”

“It’s best you don’t. Humans are less resistant to sirens than Witchers.”

“Sirens?” Jaskier said wistfully. “I’ve always wanted to meet a siren.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Geralt said. “It’s down by the dock most mornings so I’ll be heading out there in the morning.”

“I was able to get us a room,” Jaskier said. “It’s a single bed, but it beats camping in the woods. Poor Roach would probably appreciate the night indoors too.”

Geralt grunted which made Jaskier laugh a little.

“It’s room 13.”

Great. Sleeping next to the person he currently wanted the most. Maybe he should just go sleep in the woods. He knocked back the rest of his ale. Then again, he’d never hear the end of it if he did.

*

The sun was barely over the horizon when Geralt slipped out of the inn. He’d left Jaskier in bed still asleep. The bard had woken up just enough to sprawl across the entire bed. Geralt had paused, daring to allow himself a moment to take in his companion at his leisure. Jaskier was peaceful and relaxed in sleep. Vulnerable, unlike the lively person he was when he was awake. It made him seem younger than he really was, and that was saying something. In the years that Geralt had known him, Jaskier seemed to have hardly aged at all.

He wondered what his secret was. Geralt reached out to smooth some of Jaskier’s messy hair back in place before he stopped himself. It was a ridiculous urge born of ridiculous thoughts. Besides, Jaskier had never shown an interest in men. Or him.

The docks were quiet when he got there, the fishermen clearly either gone for the day or had chosen to avoid the area for the moment. The shoreline was clear, and it was currently low tide which left all sorts of tidal pools, but there was no siren to be seen. He scanned around the rockier areas, but there were no caves or cervices that a siren could hide in.

Perhaps it was better if he simply waited for the creature - if it even was a siren- to come to him.

He drew his sword and sat down on a rock overlooking the bay. He settled it across one knee and waited. The air was crisp and fresh in his lungs. Out of the corner of his eye, curious passersby stopped on occasion, but hurried about their business with one well placed glare from Geralt. He made himself as comfortable as he could and waited.

He shifted after a couple of hours, having grown restless on his perch and sheathed his sword. This was taking far longer than he anticipated. He was getting hungry too. He wondered if it was worth sending one of the occasional passersby back to the inn with an order for something hot.

He heard footsteps approaching behind him and turned. “I already said-”

“Morning Geralt!”

It was Jaskier, looking like he’d had a far better night’s sleep than he had.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Geralt said.

“From what I've heard down by the inn, it hasn’t shown up at all,” Jaskier said.

“Hm.”

“Brought you some breakfast,” Jaskier added as if to sweeten the deal.

He offered a mug of porridge and a spoon and then took a seat beside him.

Geralt grunted in thanks and dug in.

“It’s a rather peaceful inlet isn’t it?”

“Hmm,” Geralt replied.

He glanced at Jaskier out of the corner of his eye, and a nameless emotion gripped him. The bard was especially beautiful in the morning light. His eyes were wide and blue and clear. His hair, tousled by the morning breeze, looked soft to the touch.

Jaskier caught his glance and smiled. Geralt’s eyes were drawn to his lips. “Of course, it will be better once that monster is gone,”

“Yes,” Geralt choked out.

His hand shook, and he hastily dropped the spoon back into the cup. If his heart were still human, it would be hammering out of his chest right now.

“Jaskier?”

“Geralt?”

“I-”

Something was wrong. He drew back and stared hard at the Jaskier. The bard reached over and gently cupped his hand against Geralt’s jaw. His palm was warm and soft, and the scent of his skin was sweet. He swallowed hard and swayed into it despite the alarms blaring in his head.

“That’s it,” Jaskier cooed.

His medallion was buzzing on his chest. He glanced down at it. Why was that important again? He tried to shake it off, but his head was full of cotton.

"Eyes on me," Jaskier said softly. Geralt looked back up at Jaskier. Despite the fog overlaying his mind, the bard's voice was as clear as a bell. 

Jaskier slowly leaned forward and Geralt couldn’t stop himself from doing the same.

“Geralt!” It was the real Jaskier.

He jerked back, and the spell’s strength decreased and Geralt was unpleasantly snapped back to reality. The siren- no, this was no siren. It was a kind of lust demon - reached for him again and he leapt off the rock and drew his sword.

He risked a glance up at Jaskier’s shocked face.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Geralt said.

“This is exactly what it looks like!” Jaskier exclaimed. “Were you or were you not about to kiss a copy of me right now?!”

“No.”

Geralt turned to face the imposter, who smiled at him with too many teeth. He looked harder. The air shimmered and suddenly it was not Jaskier who was sitting in front of him but a stunning man with horns that curved attractively from his forehead. Geralt raised his sword.

“Oh, we're so talking about this later,” Jaskier cut in. “Humans more susceptible my ass!”

“Will you be quiet?” Geralt snapped.

“You’re not my usual fare, but I just couldn’t resist,” the incubus reached out with clawed fingers and Geralt backed away. Its voice was oily and curled around the inside of Geralt’s chest, weakening his limbs. “I was of course quite surprised to find out who the object of your affection was.”

His sway was strong, even though Geralt could now see through the glamour and it was a struggle to find the strength to attack. He tightened his grip around his sword.

“You’ve been preying on this village,” Geralt said, determined to ignore what the creature in front of him was saying.

“That’s right, darling. So many people come through this seaside town. It’s really quite easy pickings.” IT licked one of its claws with relish perhaps recalling the taste of a previous meal. The incubus was somehow able to make that look attractive, which just irritated Geralt more.

“Then you… then you know what I am here for,” Geralt said.

“Couldn’t you make an exception for me just this once?” the incubus said coaxingly.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” The incubus stepped right around Geralt's sword and ran both its hands down Geralt's chest. “Pretty please?”

Geralt immediately swung his sword, darting out of the way as a sword of fire sizzled into existence in the demon’s hand. The incubus dropped into a stance that Geralt had seen among duellists in Temeria.

“I love a good _sword_ fight.” The incubus murmured breathlessly, licking its lips.

Geralt didn't bother striking a pose like a refined courtier. He simply went for the incubus's sword arm. It parried the attack with ease and drove its weapon toward Geralt's chest. Geralt's dodge had the sword scoring its way across his ribs instead. He gritted his teeth against the pain and the acrid smell of burnt leather.

“It would be better if you just gave in. After all, he'll never treat you the way I would. And it's my motto to never waste a meal.”

That was it. Geralt had had enough. Spell or no spell, he was finishing this. Now. He cast Aard, knocking the incubus several feet back and onto the ground.It tried to scramble to its feet, sword flickering feebly, but another blast of Aard stopped it short.

The smug look dropped from the incubus's face as he stalked closer. It went pale and raised its weapon. Geralt knocked it aside with barely a glance. The sword spun out of the incubus's reach and it immediately lifted its hand, likely to cast a spell of its own. Geralt cut it off. The limb thudded to the ground as he levelled his sword at its heaving chest.

“Geralt! Geralt, don’t do this!” It was the incubus saying it, but there was an echo of Jaskier’s voice that Geralt was sure to hear in his nightmares.

Geralt grimaced, a low growl escaping his throat as he stabbed it in the chest with his sword. It was with less force than he intended, but it did the trick.

“You-you brute!” the incubus cried.

The skin around the sword began to smoke, and the creature disintegrated into a pile of ash and bone.

“Well that was something,” Jaskier said shakily, “Are you alright, Geralt?”

“I’m fine. It's just a scratch,” Geralt said. He sheathed his sword and started up the path.

“But you just-”

“I could see its true form.”

“Then do you mind telling me why the succubus, a sex demon famous for taking the form of the person their victim most desires decided to turn into me?”

“It was an incubus.”

“And these have different powers, than a succubus?”

“Yes.”

Geralt began to head back up the path. Maybe if he walked super fast, Jaskier would get the hint and wouldn’t follow.

Jaskier stepped in front of him and blocked his path. “Liar.”

No such luck. Geralt growled and tried to move around the bard.

“Geralt, we’re talking about this,” Jaskier said.

“No, we are not,” Geralt said. “It shifted into you because you were close by and it wanted to trick me. That’s all.”

“You and I both know that isn’t it.”

“Enough!” Geralt shouted. “You want to know the real reason Jaskier? Hmm? You want to know why it was you and not some comely woman? This is humiliating enough, yet you really want me to suffer to spell it out for you?”

“Geralt-”

“No, I’m done here,” he snarled. He stepped around Jaskier and began to head back up the path. If he didn’t see-

“Geralt, I feel the same way!” Jaskier burst out.

He paused and then laughed bitterly. “No, you don’t.”

Jaskier took a deep breath and then said quietly, “Well, you don’t get to tell me how I feel.”

He walked up to Geralt and tugged gently on his wrist. The Witcher turned and Jaskier caught his other hand and laced their fingers together. He looked up into Geralt’s surprised eyes. The bard’s hands were softer than his, with just the callouses that came with strumming a lute. He tightened his grip on them which caused Jaskier to smile.

“Geralt,” he said softly.

There was a determined look on Jaskier's face and Geralt couldn't help himself anymore. Hea kissed him. Jaskier let go of Geralt’s hands, threw his arms around his neck and returned the kiss with unbridled enthusiasm. Geralt tugged him closer and Jaskier looked delighted as they parted. He kissed the Witcher once more for good measure out of sheer enthusiasm

“Good, glad we're on the same page at last,” he said as they parted.

“Yes, it's ah good.”

“Oh Geralt, I heard there was a nest of werewolves of all things a couple of towns over. You think we should head there after we patch you up?” Jaskier asked as they began to head back up the road.

“Alright,” he said. "Let's go."

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! Constructive criticism is always welcome! And I'm still trying to get a handle on their characters.


End file.
